“Ma’am —”
“There’s an obscene stain on the couch. I have to get it reupholstered.”
Fuck! What? He cleaned the couch! He scrubbed it with some soap on a washcloth and everything! “We just got carried away,” Scott said desperately.
“I don’t want to hear that about my son!” Nora exclaimed.
“Okay. Listen. Thanks for gathering my stuff up. Tow truck is fine, thank you, I’ll pay for it —”
“No, I’ll pay for it, you’re an indigent troubadour.”
“That’s really not necessary.” Scott took a deep breath, suddenly exhausted. “I — can I just talk to him for five seconds?”
“Are youinsane?”
“I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
“He’s fine!”
Scott looked over her left shoulder and noticed something strange on the wall behind her. He craned his neck. The wall had five — no, six — holes punched in it.
An old-timey clanging alarm bell went off in his head. “What happened?”
“Huh?” Nora said, rubbing one of her eyes. She turned and looked at what he was pointing at. “Oh.”
“What happened tonight?” Scott pressed her. “You’re obviously upset, obviously something is up, I don’t think it’s just about me.”
“That’s absolutely none of your business.”
“Who punched your wall?”
“Who do you think?” Nora said, in complete exasperation.
“Okay, well, I’d love to see him for two seconds. He wasn’t picking up my calls earlier.”
“He’s sleeping,” Nora said. “Or he doesn’t care about you, I don’t know which. Either way I’d like you to get off my front step.”
“Just a quick proof of life,” Scott said.
This was the wrong turn of phrase. Nora stared at him like he’d taken a dump in front of her.
“Yes, Scott,” she said, dripping with sarcasm. “Ikilledmy son for having sex with a man. What country do you think you’re in?”
“I didn’t mean it seriously, Mrs. Novack, I was being whimsical, okay?”
“You know what?” Nora said in a silky voice, getting up in his face and pointing a finger in his chest. Fury and crying had given her green eyes a candy-like sheen. “Go on back to that wedding and tell my sister you need a place to sleep tonight. Tell her I’m having your piece of crap van towed to her driveway. And if you see Chip there, tell him I want to talk to him ASAP.”
She took a step back and slammed the door in his face. Scott, who still needed his stuff, stood there in confusion for a moment before knocking again.
The door flew back open, and Nora shoved his duffel bag into his chest, then bent to grab his guitar and slammed it into the duffel bag.
Scott frantically shifted his weight so he could secure both of these unwieldy items in his arms. “Thanks,” he said, finally on the verge of losing his patience with her. “Appreciate it.”
Nora slammed the door again. Scott began to lost his grip on the guitar, his biceps burning, and slid into a sitting position on the steps so he wouldn’t drop it.
“Fucking nutcase,” he said under his breath.
Carver woke with a jolt several hours after he lay down in bed, totally disoriented. He felt all the symptoms of an unexpected nap: putrid dry mouth, hot and leaden limbs, deep confusion as if he’d woken up in another universe.
